Caustic Comfort
by VA-Parky
Summary: The true meaning of a gesture can only be found in the heart of the person behind it. Oneshot.


**Summary: **_The true meaning of a gesture can only be found in the heart of the person behind it. One-shot._

**Disclaimer:** _I do not own Star Wars, as much as I wish it were otherwise._

**Author's Note:** _This zipped through my mind the other day and I grabbed onto the idea before it could escape. Hope you enjoy it!_

_**00000**_

_Hatred._

Vader allowed it to course through his veins. _Or was that fire?_ No matter, the feeling was the same - red hot and destructive. It was almost beautiful in a way, the pattern it made as it ran in rivulets and swirls, filling every crevice it could reach. Like him, it left a trail of sorrow and damage in its wake.

_My true brother._

He had seen enough battle to realize he must be delirious in some form - for he was nearly certain he had been pulled away from the river of molten liquid, yet he still burned as if it blanketed every inch of his body.

_Perhaps it will never stop._

_Perhaps this is the feeling of Power. _

_The inescapable price of the Dark Side._

The part of him that was still Anakin Skywalker couldn't quite suppress the shudder that passed through him at that thought. His soul began to struggle as it sensed a crack in the oppressive shroud of hatred.

He watched through scorched eyes as his new Master brought his hand down to rest on his brow. He wanted to howl his outrage at the hollow gesture of affection.

_Don't touch me! _

But his lungs couldn't expel the words and as the hand touched the charred skin of his face, his soul screamed in denial as it was flooded with a deluge of pain and suffering he had never known.

It was the searing grip of despair.

He thrashed as the gloved hand gripped him tighter. Panting, he clawed against the weight of the memories that threatened to overrun him, but in the end all he could do was shriek in fury as they pulled him under.

_He was five years old, sick in bed with a devastating virus. His small body shivered uncontrollably with chills and he burrowed into the threadbare covers defensively. He peeled his eyes open as he sensed a loving presence enter the room. Gratitude flowed through his heart as he watched his mother hurry towards him._

_"Oh Ani," she whispered. "I'm so sorry you're feeling sick. But I've made you some healing soup and the medical droid assures me it will have you feeling better in no time." Ever patient, she sat with him while he slowly worked his way through the warm broth and her eyes sparkled with relief as he drained the last drop._

_Comfortably drowsy, he slumped into the lumpy pillow and sighed as he felt a cool hand rest on his brow soothingly. Closing his eyes, he sank into the first peaceful sleep he had enjoyed in days._

His eyes flew open and he retched, the contrast between his mother's loving touch and the monster looming over him blazing forth in his heart.

He tried to pull away, but his body was failing him. _Another betrayal._ His Master's rotting hand began to press down harder and he cried out, burning from the devastating touch as his mind sought to escape. It went to the only safe place it had left - the past.

_His ears still rang from the reprimand Master Yoda had given him. His face flushed in humiliation as he remembered the stern words that lodged in his mind._

_"13 years old you are," he growled. "Too old for such childish pranks. Act in such a way, Jedi do not! Wait here for your Master, you will. A bit of meditation, I suggest."_

_And so Anakin leaned against the pillar, his stomach churning nervously as he imagined the disappoinment he would surely see in Obi-wan's face. He knew his Master was only training him because of the dying wishes of Qui-Gon. The knowledge still stung him terribly and he knew today's incident would only further damage their rocky relationship. His mouth formed a silent wish, and he prayed the Force might take pity on him._

_As it usually did, the Force ignored him._

_He heard the approaching footsteps before he actually saw him and the sound was enough to send his heart racing. Moments later, the Jedi Master strode into sight like the sleek warrior he was. Anakin winced as he saw the flat expression on the older man's face as he came to a stop before him._

_"Anakin," he murmured, his tone cool and clipped. "What is the meaning of this?"_

_"I'm sorry, Master," Anakin replied softly. "I have no excuse."_

_"Sewing the armholes shut in Master Windu's travel cloak? What were you thinking?" he admonished._

_"I don't know," Anakin mumbled. "I just wanted the other padawans to see me doing something... normal. They only see me as The Chosen One." He closed his eyes, completely miserable._

_To his surprise, he felt a comforting hand on his brow. His gaze flew up to meet the concerned face of Obi-wan and he felt a ray of hope pierce his aching heart._

_"My young friend, believe it or not - I understand."_

He was vaguely aware of being transported into a medical facility. He watched the droids scurry around him as they attached various appendages, ignoring the rest of his smoldering body. His eyes closed as he felt a metallic hand rest on his brow, taking measurements while it monitored his vitals. Not taking care to ease his pain, its only function was to sustain his life.

_Such a contrast from the loyal, protective hand of Obi-wan. _

_But that is of no concern now. He has betrayed me. And now, I am Strength. I am Power._

_But at what cost?_

His eyes rolled wildly behind singed lids as his flesh and his memories continued to burn.

_His steps were light and sure as he rushed towards his wife who was grinning at him from behind a large pillar. Sweeping her into his arms, he lifted her slight form and twirled her in a circle as her hair fanned out around them._

_"Anakin! Oh Anakin, you're home!" she cried softly, her small hands framing his face._

_He drew her into a deep kiss, relishing the taste of her lips. His voice hoarse, he whispered, "Padme, I've missed you so. Every day has seemed like an eternity. If the Chancellor hadn't been kidnapped, I don't think they would have ever brought us back from the Outer Rim sieges."_

_"You were hurt?" she gasped sharply. His eyes closed blissfully as she smoothed the hair off his forehead and ran her soft fingers over the jagged scar that skimmed his eye._

_"Just an unfriendly reminder to keep up my light saber practice," he quipped, enjoying the feel of her loving touch as it continued to dance across his brow. He let out a deep breath, feeling loved and peaceful. He felt her lips whisper across his face..._

He dropped back into consciousness with a start. _Padme! Please, my love, I'm so sorry._

But the silence was deafening. She was gone. And so was any hope for comfort... or forgiveness.

The fight left him as his memories disappeared, and the rest of Anakin Skywalker faded away. He could only watch in detached horror as a dark mask slid over his face. With a hiss, it locked into place and he screamed as the metal prongs embedded themselves in his forehead.

_So different from the touches of affection he used to earn._

Now a permanent reminder of everything he had lost.

-FIN-


End file.
